


Grocery Stick

by InitialA



Series: Storybrooke Downs [2]
Category: Frozen (2013), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/M, First Meetings, Hockey, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InitialA/pseuds/InitialA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Anna met Kristoff, or how sometimes it's okay to run into someone and break two dozen eggs in the process because they might turn out to be the great love of your life.</p><p>---<br/>Takes place three years before the events in 'Dark Horse'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. October 2011

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Philyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philyra/gifts).



> This is the first in a series of spin-offs/additional stories in the Storybrooke Downs universe.
> 
> For Philyra, who gleefully pushed me off a cliff and into hockey AUs. She's largely responsible for enabling my secret love of Frozen characters and making me put a lot of thought into what Anna, Elsa, and Kristoff are doing behind the scenes of the main story.
> 
> For those who like such details, Anna is 23 and Kristoff is 24 in this story.

Anna mumbles to herself all through the supermarket, counting on her fingers and squealing to herself when she finds exactly what she needs. Her cart's getting a little full and she's not quite sure how she's going to get it all back to the house but she'll figure it out. (She doesn't have a car, not yet — not ever? It'd be nice to not to have to worry about a car, but then again it would be kinda convenient to take the kids out and maybe if she talked to the agency they'd find a loophole to work a car into the house budget and —  _focus, Anna!_ )

This weekend she's planning on teaching the kids how to bake a cake from scratch. Well, she's planning on teaching the kids how to make  _everything_  from scratch, but she figures a cake is a better way to lure them into the kitchen. If they happen to wander in or stick around during the prep for other meals, well, all the better for anyone involved.

She just wants them to know someone loves them enough to cook for them, even if it's just the housemother who lives there every other week.

Anna's glancing up at the aisle signs in search of that one last item to check off her mental list when she rounds the corner and smashes into someone — and she does mean  _smash_ , because the eggs the man had been carrying fly out of his hands and break all over the floor. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Anna cries, hurrying around the cart. "I wasn't paying attention to where I —"

"Obviously," the man snaps, bending down to see if there was anything to be saved from the mess.

A chill creeps down Anna's spine as she frowns. Okay, so she'd broken what, two dozen eggs? That's a normal Tuesday for her. There's no need to be  _rude_  about it! "Hey, I said I was sorry. You don't have to be mean about it. I'll pay for it, even, since it was my fault."

The man glances up at her and her eyes widen just a little. He's kinda cute and vaguely familiar, with his shaggy mop of blonde hair and guarded brown eyes, and he's built like a lumberjack. A lumberjack whose buttons are straining against his muscles and legs like tree trunks and  _focus Anna_! "Do I… know you, somehow?" she asks, tilting her head a little.

He raises an eyebrow as if he can't believe what he's hearing, then shakes his head. "If you have to ask, you don't."

Her frown deepens as irritation surges through her veins. "Look, Rudey McRudepants, if you can't even answer a simple question nicely —"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. So, you said you'd pay for this?" the man asks, standing up again and Anna's eyes widen a little more because he's got to be almost a foot taller than her and  _holy cats_.

She gives herself a little shake. He might be tall and good-looking, but he's acting like a jerk and she does  _not_ have time for jerks. Her last boyfriend in college, a pompous guy named Hans who she's still shocked she'd been so fooled by, had been King Jerk and she's  _still_ nursing the bruises from when she'd punched him in the nose. "Yes, sorry," she says. "Look, I'm almost done with my shopping, just let me get one more thing and I'll meet you at the checkout line, okay?"

The man gives her a look like he doesn't believe her, but he nods and walks away. Anna sighs and looks around helplessly for a moment before spotting an employee. She flags the girl down and apologizes profusely for the mess, explaining the situation. The girl waves her off, saying, "It's okay, happens more often than you think. Just tell the guys up front what happened and they'll add it onto your balance."

Anna grins broadly as the girl goes to get a mop and Anna drags her cart down the aisle for the flour she needs.

The man is waiting for her at the front of the store and she's interested to see that he looks really, genuinely surprised that she's there. "I totally thought you'd bail on me," he says.

Anna silently counts to ten to keep her temper under control and says, "Nope. I keep my word."

There's only one kid running cashier and it's a bit of a wait. Anna checks her phone a few times, a cheap little flip-phone that the agency provides for her - she would have worked for them anyway, but perks like free cell phones and student loan forgiveness really go a long way to sweeten a deal. She ignores the curious glances the man next to her is giving her, mentally going over her list of what she needs to do when she gets back to the house - homework and dinner first, then group activity, making sure the right evening medications get handed out and actually taken, hanging out before bedtime, and then paperwork after lights-out. Anna looks at her phone again and realizes she has just enough time to get all of this home before the kids get back from school, if the line would just  _move_. She  _really_  doesn't want to think about what kind of trouble she'll get into if the kids get home and there's no one there. She  _just_  got this job, she  _loves_  this job! And, okay, there's Kathryn the caseworker, she'll be around because she's there until five every day, but it's not Kathryn's job to make sure the kids don't kill each other, it's Anna's and she's going to be in so much trouble if this line doesn't  _move_ — "Are you feeding an army?" the man finally asks.

Anna starts a little as she gets out of her own head. "What? Army? Oh, no. It's… It's my kids," she says, and everyone thinks it's weird that she puts it that way but they  _are_  hers.

The man's eyes widen, a lot more than Anna's have today. "How many kids do you  _have_?" he asks, and she's amused that his voice pitches high at the end.

She presses her lips together to keep from laughing. He really is cute when he's not being rude. "Seven." When his jaw drops, she can't help but laugh this time. "I'm a housemother, silly, it's a group home for foster kids."

Something in his expression changes and she can't pin it down, which is frustrating because she's good with people — she  _gets_  people. But this guy has a whole different set of walls up that she's never scaled before and that's kind of irritating. "That's… That's really something," he says finally. He sounds like he's somewhere between awe and humility and that makes her earlier irritation with him fade a little.

"Yeah," Anna says, turning back to the line, which has barely inched forward. "It really is."

He doesn't say anything else the whole time they're waiting in line. He spends a lot of time with his head down, she notices, but he doesn't take out his phone and play with it like most people would. He seems like he's about to say something more but just doesn't know how to start. When they finally reach the front of the line, he helps her unload the cart onto the belt and even loads it back up with bags while she explains what had happened with the eggs to the cashier. As she pays — and thank goodness for agency credit cards because the total on the screen is way out of her pay grade — the cashier finally looks up at her companion and blanches. "Oh my God," the teen breathes reverently. "You're Kristoff Bjorgman!"

The man gives a half-smile. A lightbulb goes off in her mind as Anna vaguely remembers hearing one of her kids mention the name before. "The one and only," the man says, sounding tired already but putting on a good face.

"This is so awesome! Hey, man, congrats on the hat trick against the Bolts, that was amazing! Not even on a power play!"

Anna practically has to wrestle her card back from the cashier, starstruck as he is, and she signs off on the payment as this Kristoff Bjorgman agrees to sign a bit of receipt paper for the cashier. "Sorry about that," he says as she tugs the cart outside.

Anna glances up at him again. "Hockey player?" she guesses, raising an eyebrow.

Kristoff starts to laugh. "You really don't know who I am?"

She shrugs. "When he said your name, I kind of recognized it. Harry, one of my kids, he worships the Bruins, but I have seven sets of interests to keep track of. Sorry if that bruises your ego."

Kristoff shakes his head, chuckling. "Nah, it's cool. Made me feel almost normal for once."

She glances down his well-muscled body and chooses not to make a comment about how normal people aren't built like that. Instead she purses her lips. "And to think I paid for your eggs when you could buy everything in my cart seven times over."

"Hey, you offered."

"I did," she agrees, then looks up at the sky with a sigh. Clouds have rolled in and it looks like it might rain soon. She has too much in the cart to try to walk the twenty blocks back to the house. She's strong, but even she has her limits. She'll have to borrow the cart and return it tomorrow. It makes her feel super guilty every time she has to do it, but some things can't be helped. "Well, hope the rain holds off on me. It was nice to meet you, Kristoff Bjorgman."

She starts off down the road with the cart when he calls after her, "Wait, you're  _walking_  with that?"

Anna looks over her shoulder in bemusement. "Yeah. I do it a lot."

His eyebrows go up. "You make a habit of stealing grocery carts," he says slowly, as if making sure he understands what's going on here.

She bristles at the accusation. "And returning them!"

Kristoff shakes his head and beckons. "Come on, I'll give you a ride. It's the least I can do."

She's about to snap at him, but she remembers the time and bites her tongue. She doesn't want Kathryn to deal with the kids alone. Anna follows him not to a BMW, as she expected from a professional athlete, but to a beat up Dodge Intrepid. "Don't look so surprised," Kristoff says as he helps her load her bags into his trunk, packed precariously around various pieces of hockey equipment.

"I thought all athletes drove flashy cars," Anna admits.

"The idiots do. Some of us have other things to spend our money on. Besides, Sven here got me through a lot. I can't just let him go."

Anna bites her lip to keep from grinning at the fact that he named his car and gets in the passenger side. He turns down the radio as they get going — NPR, another unexpected fact about him that's a little bit endearing — and she directs him back to the house.

The kids are walking up the sidewalk from the bus stop as Kristoff pulls in front of the house. Anna bounds out of the car with a grin and a wave. "My favorite munchkins, just in time to help with groceries!"

Her older ones groan, but the littler ones smile a little at her enthusiasm. She counts it as a victory - at least they react to her over-the-top antics. She swiftly puts them all to work as Kristoff gets out of the car. Harry, her twelve-year old who is obsessed with the Bruins, freezes. "Holy fuck," Harry whispers.

Anna sighs. Harry's been in and out of four foster homes in the last three years for behavioral problems, the least of which is his inability to stop cursing. It's an ongoing problem that she's hoping to cure soon. "Language, Harry."

"But Miss Anna, it's  _Kristoff Bjorgman_! You got a ride from  _Kristoff Bjorgman_!" Harry whisper-shouts. Anna hides a smile behind her hand.

"Yeah, Miss Anna did," Kristoff says, bracing himself on his knees to be at Harry's eye level. "Because I was kind of mean to her at the store and I didn't know how else to apologize. You're Harry, right?" Harry's eyes might fall out of his head, they're so wide, and Anna's melting a little at the little gestures Kristoff is making — using Harry's name, getting on his level, reaching over now to shake his hand like he's an adult worthy of respect. "It's nice to meet you, Harry. Maybe you and your friends could come to a game sometime."

Harry's head whips around to look at Anna so fast that she's afraid he might have hurt himself. "Can we, Miss Anna?  _Please_? A real Bruins game!"

She bites the inside of her lip. It's not in the budget, they used up their house field trip last month to go out to the zoo because Hillary had wanted to learn about penguins. "We'll have to see —"

"I think we can work something out, don't you think so, Miss Anna?" Kristoff asks, looking at her. Their eyes meet and he winks. Her heart stutters a little and  _what in the world is going on_?

"Uh, yeah. We'll talk about it. We have to check with — with the agency," she says, regaining her composure. "Harry, sweetie, you've got some stuff in those bags that need to go in the fridge, you should go in."

He does, with a lingering look over his shoulder at Kristoff before disappearing inside, and Anna gathers the last of the bags in her hands. She bobs a short, mock-curtsey at him, smiling wryly. "Well, thank you for the ride, Mr. Bjorgman. And for charming Harry."

He smirks a little at that. "Not a problem at all, Miss Anna No-last-name."

"Yeah, Miss Anna is fine," she says. No reason to get too attached, he won't remember her in a week anyway.

"So when I tell the ticket office to hold eight rinkside tickets, put it under 'Miss Anna'?" he asks as she turns to head up the walkway.

She almost drops her bags in shock and whirls around. She stares incredulously, not really caring that her mouth has fallen open. "Wait, you were serious about that?"

Kristoff leans against his car, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't make it a habit of lying to kids, especially kids like these ones. You're doing something really special here, I meant that. Not many housemothers are willing to put this much effort into taking care of the kids." She wonders how he knows that and then she wonders if it's prying too much to look up his Wikipedia page later instead of actually asking him - and she wonders why she's suddenly shy about asking how he knows. Kristoff grins. "It's nothing, really. We like to give back to the community, and what's better than giving some kids a great night out? And their cute chaperone."

She's horrified to realize she's blushing. "Well, that's — I mean — Fine," Anna squeaks, squaring her shoulders. She's no blushing maiden, she can handle flirty hockey players. "Thank you very much, Mr. Bjorgman. I accept."

He reaches over and shuts the trunk. "Not a problem, Miss Anna."

"Hey," Anna says as he gets back into the car. He glances over his shoulder at her and she smiles mischievously. "It's Adgarssen. Anna Adgarssen."

He grins again. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Anna Adgarssen."

She lingers a little too long on the sidewalk as he drives off before shaking herself again.  _What a contrary man_ , she thinks, walking up the path and into the house. "Okay, kids, homework time and dinner's in two hours! I mean it!"


	2. December 2011

It takes a few weeks to iron out all the details. There's more red tape and paperwork than Anna ever expected. After the third phone call to the Bruins' home office to touch base with him about an update, Kristoff just gives her his cell phone number. "It's just easier to talk to me this way," he'd said, going on to explain how often they were on the road.

She tries not to think about that too much and vows only to use it for business reasons. Some days she only succeeds because she knows she has a very limited plan and she needs to keep in touch with her sister back home.

But finally in December everything is cleared to go and the agency sends out Olaf, the older man who drives the field trip van, to pick them up for the game against Toronto. Anna spends most of the trip to the Garden turned around in the passenger's seat, scolding Hillary for yanking on Ayisha's ponytail, or breaking up arguments between Harry, Scott, and Ramy. Only Seo Young and Thomas, the oldest two, are behaving at all, and that's because they're both staring disinterestedly out the windows.

When they finally arrive, they're met by an arena employee, who acts as their escort through the evening. Anna's surprised when the woman takes them first to the concession stand. "Mr. Bjorgman wanted to make sure sure your children would get a full experience," the woman explains kindly, and Anna feels like her heart might burst with a surge of affection.

Their seats are rinkside as he'd promised and Harry almost talks himself hoarse to anyone who will listen about all of the stats and history he'd memorized in preparation for today. "God, just shut up already, no one cares," Thomas says at one point.

"Thomas. He cares and that's what's important," Anna scolds. "You don't have to listen to or like it."

"Whatever," Thomas mutters, slouching further into his seat.

"Miss Anna, when's it gonna start?" Ayisha asks.

Anna checks her phone. "Ten minutes," she answers, and prays to whatever God is listening that they don't try to kill each other in the interim.

When the lights finally dim and the teams are introduced, all arguing ceases, and even Thomas and Seo Young sit up a little straighter as the game gets underway. Anna's never watched a hockey game before in her life and spends most of it in a wide-eyed daze. She's only glad that the uniforms are different colors so she can kind of keep track of who she's supposed to be rooting for - and even then it's difficult because of how  _fast_ they are. There are a few fights that break out in front of them and Hillary ends up sitting in Anna's lap out of fear. (If Anna had known this would happen, she might have turned down Kristoff's offer - Hillary hasn't had many good homes in her short life.) More often someone will slam into the wall and her boys get very excited when that happens.

During what she guesses is halftime (are there halftimes in a game that only has three quarters? Are they called quarters? There's only three of them, they shouldn't be called quarters), she quizzes Harry on a few points so she understands better. Like what a power play is and why they let the players hit each other if it's against the rules. ("Duh, Miss Anna, it's  _hockey_. They just  _do_.") Seo Young tries not to appear interested during Harry's mini-lecture, but she's leaning in to hear him better anyway. Ayisha, Scott and Ramy start asking questions too, and Anna can't remember the last time Harry looked so pleased.

One memorable moment comes when Kristoff scores a goal - at least Anna  _thinks_  it was Kristoff? There was kind of a big pile-up there towards the end and it was hard to see anything, but the lights and buzzers went off. He skates right up to where they sit and grins at them all before his teammates pile on him in congratulations. And maybe Anna's a little wishful in thinking it, but she thinks maybe Kristoff winked at her before skating off back to his line.

When the game ends, the Garden erupts in cheers as the Bruins have dominated over the Leafs 4-1. The arena employee (Anna swears the woman introduced herself at one point, but so much has happened tonight that she can't remember her name) comes to collect them again, saying there's more to their trip. "What do you mean 'more'?" Ramy demands. "We saw the game, there's  _more_?"

The woman winks conspiratorially and beckons for them to follow her. Hillary's clutching Anna's hand tightly as they follow the employee past the barriers that keep the public out. Even Thomas looks a little less sullen than usual as they enter the underbelly of the arena, sneaking interested glances around at the schedules and notices pinned up on the walls. There's loud voices echoing down the hall from up ahead. Anna's eyes widen as she realizes they're being led into the locker rooms and  _holy cats this is insane_. "There they are!" Kristoff's voice booms as Anna and the kids are ushered in.

Her jaw drops. Not only is the entire team here, still in uniform, but it looks like half the gift shop is waiting for them too. She manages to nod when Scott asks, "Is it okay, Miss Anna?"

Even Hillary lets her go to run in with the older ones to talk with the players and find shirts and hats and hockey sticks - oh God, she's going to have to put down a ban on those inside the house. Anna leans against the wall, feeling overwhelmed for what might be only the third or fourth time in her life; she prides herself on being able to take most everything in stride. "You know, you're allowed to take something too," Kristoff's voice teases.

She glances up at him as he leans on the wall next to her. His hair's slick with sweat and sticking up at all angles and if she'd been a bit more grounded she might think it was adorable. "This is insane," she says instead, then slaps her hand over her mouth. Her and her big mouth! "I'm sorry, that was rude," she says behind her hand and lowers it slightly. "This is just… This is a lot. Way more than I - than  _they_ would ever expect. It's… this is really big, Mr. Bjorgman."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Really, all this and I get called my dad's name?"

Anna winces. "Sorry… Kristoff."

"It's okay. I know it's a lot, but I also told you we like to give back to the community. And when I mention there's seven foster kids coming in for a treat, that's when PR brings out the big guns. I managed to talk them out of allowing any news guys in here for 'exposure', no one needs that," Kristoff says, making air quotes around the word exposure and Anna's extraordinarily grateful for the consideration. Hillary and Ramy would  _freak out_. "Nothing like a little brainwashing to keep them as lifelong fans, eh?"

He nudges her lightly and Anna has to laugh at that. "No, I suppose not," she answers. She looks over as Harry starts jumping up and down, unable to contain his feelings any longer. "I have no idea if he's jumping for a good reason or a bad reason," Anna admits. "Who's he talking to?"

"Daniel Paille. If the kid knows hockey, he's jumping for a good reason. We wouldn't have won the Cup last season without Paille," Kristoff explains.

"Oh." She hadn't even known they'd won a Cup last season - and he said it like it had a capital-C, so apparently it was important.

Kristoff starts pointing out others in the room, explaining who they were and their positions. Anna listens with interest, occasionally calling out reminders of manners to the kids as they gather autographs and gossip. After he exhausts the roster, Anna looks up at him mischieviously. "And who's this guy?" she asks, pointing to him.

He blinks at her for a moment then breathes a laugh. "Some dumbass leftwing from Colorado, you wouldn't have heard of him."

It's her turn to nudge him now, smiling wryly. "I dunno, he looks awfully familiar to me. Kinda grumpy sometimes, but it seems like he's got a soft spot for kids who haven't had things so great."

She's a little astonished to see his cheeks turn pink. "Yeah, well. I've been in a pair of shoes that looked a lot like theirs, so I do what I can to pay it forward."

Anna tilts her head to get a better look at him. "If this is what you call 'doing what you can', then I don't know if I could handle you doing  _everything_  you can," she tells him honestly.

He laughs shortly. "Miss Anna, I don't think there's much you couldn't handle."

"You'd be right about that," she agrees. "And it's just 'Anna'."

The arena employee comes back, giving them a five minute warning, and all the kids rush to Kristoff for his turn at autographs. When they're done, Anna reminds them of their manners, and a group "THANK YOU EVERYONE" is chorused. Anna turns to usher them out when Kristoff catches her hand. "Hey, you didn't grab anything."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly -"

"I insist. Really."

Her eyes flick from where his hand is gripping hers to his earnest face. There's one shirt in the pile that should fit her and she giggles when she realizes it's a mockup of his jersey. "You did that on purpose," she accuses him.

The look he gives her is wide-eyed and innocent. "Swear on a stack of Bibles, I didn't."

"Uh-huh."

Kristoff starts to grin and her reaction is almost unconscious - she reaches up and gently punches him in the shoulder. He winces. "Holy crap, you're strong."

"Yeah, yeah, you've still got pads on," Anna tells him.

He makes a big show of rolling his arm in its socket and Anna's vaguely aware that the kids are still in the doorway waiting for her. Kristoff sighs. "I might never be able to play again from that," he says dramatically, and Anna rolls her eyes. "You're gonna have to make it up to me, ruining my lifelong dream of playing professional hockey."

"Oh, I'm sure," Anna says, taking a step towards the door. "How could I possibly make it up to you?"

"Go to dinner with me?"

She freezes, now terribly aware that not only are the children she's in charge of in the same room as them, but also every single one of his teammates. "I - er -"

The silence stretches to an almost uncomfortable level. Then Anna does something she's never done before in her life.

She runs.

She doesn't say anything else, only ushers the kids out the door, thanking the arena employee the entire walk back to the van. She makes sure everyone gets in and no one's whacking anyone else with a hockey stick, and Olaf gets them going back to the house. The kids are quiet for once, probably overwhelmed from the evening. "Miss Anna?" Hillary finally asks.

"What's up, hon?"

"You didn't answer Mr. Kristoff's question."

Anna's acutely aware of seven pairs of teenage and pre-pubescent eyeballs on the back of her head. "You're right, I didn't," she says carefully.

"Why?" Scott asks.

Anna grimaces. "I don't know," she says.

Seo Young giggles. "He is cute, Miss Anna. You should have said yes."

"I didn't say no either - and we are not talking about this anymore!" Anna declares, realizing this is a horrible topic of conversation.

At home, exhaustion finally gives in as everyone sluggishly gets ready for bed. There's not even the usual bickering about bathroom space. Anna flicks out the last of the lights as all the bedroom doors shut and heads downstairs to her own room. She sits on the edge of her bed, unbraiding her hair and finger-combing the tangles out, staring at her phone that sits on her bedside table. She shouldn't. It's late, he just played a professional sport for hours, she's not thinking properly… but…

Feeling very much like a teenager, she picks up her phone, flops back on her bed and calls Kristoff. She's using precious minutes that she hopes she won't need for something with Elsa, but it's a little important. Elsa would understand - heck, Elsa would  _encourage_  this, Anna decides while she waits for Kristoff to pick up or for it to go to voicemail. Elsa was always after Anna to live her life, to stop worrying about her.

The call goes to voicemail and Anna hesitates for a moment while his message rambles on. How do you accept a date over voicemail? Did people do that? Was she committing some major social faux pas? The phone beeps and Anna says in a rush, "I'm sorry I didn't answer you earlier, you just kind of freaked me out because literally everyone was there? And that was really weird for me? But I'd like to do dinner but I have to figure out how that works because I'm sure there's rules? Because of my job? It's going to be weird and complicated for a bit and I'm sorry and if that's some kind of deterrent then that's okay. I understand. Anyway. Oh, this is Anna, by the way, Anna Adgarssen? You might have picked up on that. Unless there was another girl you asked out today. Which you might have, I dunno. Wow. This is a really dumb voicemail and I  _really_  need to stop talking now, okay bye!"

Anna drops her phone onto her face, groaning. No wonder she hasn't had any dates since graduation. She's a disaster in human form.

She hardly sleeps that night from nerves, mentally replaying the message she'd left over and over again and rewriting how it should have gone. She should have been funnier, less nervous, less blunt. He's never going to call her back, she decides around three in the morning. He'll realize it was a mistake to ask out a girl who is clearly in need of her head looked at and never speak to her again.

Kristoff calls back the next afternoon. He sounds amused when she answers. "I have to say, that might be the most roundabout way someone has ever said 'maybe' to a date with me," he says in lieu of greeting.

"That's me," Anna says, laughing weakly and grimacing a little at her own dorkiness. God, the fact that he even called her back at all is a miracle. "Always making things interesting."

He chuckles. "If it helps, I'm not going to be in town for a while," Kristoff says.

"That kinda does help, actually."

"Wow. You're really great at ego stroking."

Anna laughs, genuinely this time. "Oh, be quiet. I mean, like, for me to figure out time off and stuff. There's rules for married houseparents and having time for themselves, but I don't know the rules for single people."

There's a rustling sound on his end and she wonders what he's doing. "Ah, so I have to marry you to see you. Not gonna lie, that sounds a little extreme for a first date," he jokes.

Anna's stomach flutters at that and she takes a deep breath to squash that.  _It's just a joke_ , she tells herself. "Yeah, just a little. I'm not looking to rush into marriage again."

"Again?" Kristoff sounds genuinely interested.

She winces. Her and her big mouth. "That's… kind of a long story. It's not really first date material."

She can hear the smile in his voice when he asks, "What about second date material?"

Anna's eyebrows go up. They hadn't even gone out once and he's talking about a  _second_ date? "How about let's get through one date and reassess," she suggests, hoping she doesn't sound as nervous as she feels. "When are you in town again?"

He laughs and they discuss his tightly-regulated schedule against her questionable one for a while. They decide on a tentative Tuesday two weeks from now.

She gets cleared for her first night off, which is a miracle in and of itself, and the kids tease her relentlessly about what she's going to wear and where they're going. She brushes them off, asking enough questions about homework to have them all running to the study room - until she can't get her hair braided and coiled right. She then invites the merciless teasing of Seo Young while the young woman fixes Anna's hair. Anna winces as one hairpin scrapes her scalp too hard, glancing up at Seo Young's contemplative face after the teasing dies down and silence falls. "Miss Anna, do you like Mr. Bjorgman?" Seo Young asks finally.

"I don't know him very well," Anna answers. "I hope I like him."

Seo Young ties a green ribbon around the coil and reaches for the hairspray. "I hope you do too. You are very kind to us, Miss Anna, and sometimes we do not appreciate it. You deserve some kindness in return."

Anna holds her breath and closes her eyes as she's spritzed, her heart very full at her charge's words. When she's done, Seo Young bobs her head in a short bow - an old habit from her parents who she hasn't seen since they abandoned her nine years before. Anna turns in her seat and gently grips Seo Young's hand for a moment. Anna knows her well enough now that saying something would only embarrass them both, and she puts all her gratitude and pride in Seo Young's progress into an earnest smile. The girl smiles tightly, her cheeks turning pink, bobs her head again and flees.

Kristoff picks her up at seven-thirty, after the temp arrives and Anna warns the kids off from terrorizing the girl. "You look," he says when she opens the door, hesitating for a moment to find the right word. His eyes sweep down her body and she wonders if the calf-length green dress, black riding boots, and black wool peacoat are a little too much. "You look really nice," he says finally, a little breathlessly.

Anna fights the urge to smirk. "You look a lot different when you aren't all sweaty," she fires back and he  _does_  smirk at that. She has to admit: he does look good in his dark button-down and slacks.

He offers his arm and she takes it. They deliberately ignore the cat-calls from the kids, still watching from the porch.

Looking back, she doesn't remember exactly where they went or what they talked about. She remembers little things, like the way he threw his head back and laughed at her jokes, or how he was super patient when she would give him helpless looks about his job. She remembers the little zip of electricity up her arm when he took her hand and entwined their fingers together. She remembers thinking about how amazing he looked when he would get really passionate about whatever he was talking about, and how genuinely interested and thoughtful he was when asking her about herself and her life.

She remembers how natural it felt to stand on her toes and kiss him goodnight, the soft sigh he gave, how warm she felt when they parted.

She remembers how nice it was to grin when he asked, "So, about that second date?"

And she definitely remembers the way his face lit up when she said, "Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always lovely. And come bug me on tumblr, my username is initiala.
> 
> "Grocery stick" is hockey slang, mostly for a player who sits on the bench and doesn't do much -- or the stick that you put on the line at the grocery store. :)


End file.
